


bedroom eyes

by poetic_leopard



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Older!Killugon, by older i mean they're like 16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetic_leopard/pseuds/poetic_leopard
Summary: Killua helps Gon get ready for his date and confronts his feelings for him in the process. [“You should dress me.” Killua felt his heart skip a beat as he stared up at Gon. “W- What?”]pre warning: cotton candy fluff fest ahead ^_^





	bedroom eyes

_It's a slow cinnamon summer, your spell's pulling me under.  
_ \- cinnamon, jome

* * *

“What in the world are you wearing, Gon?”

Killua pressed the back of his wrist to his mouth in a futile attempt to stifle an onslaught of laughter.

“My regular clothes…?” Gon replied, eyes bright and twinkling, his hair sticking to his forehead in damp, messy clumps.

Killua had been lying on his stomach reading a comic book in Gon’s bedroom while he'd been in the shower. Outside, dusk was falling, and faint evening light trickled into the room, seeping everything in shades of simmering aureate and drowsy pinks. The half-eaten moon was a wispy ghost visible through the window. Cicadas hymned loud enough to drown out the sound of passerby cars.

Gon was dressed in a pair of obligatory khakis so green they blended in with the forest-like wallpaper of his room and an equally green button-up shirt that looked like it hadn’t seen the hot end of an iron in months. Killua hid his face behind the comic book and snorted. “There’s no way you’re wearing _that_ to the school dance.” 

“What? But why not?” Gon whined.

“I don’t know. It’s just so _green_.”

“And what’s wrong with green?” Gon demanded, sounding like a pouty child who’d just been told their favorite toy had been broken. The thing was, a part of Killua almost wanted to allow Gon to walk boldly into the school hall dressed like an exiled elf, but then he remembered that he was a good friend, and that he couldn’t possibly let his best friend make an utter fool out of himself in front of everybody at school, not to mention his date. 

Killua of course, liked Gon no matter how he dressed. In fact, looking back on the first time they’d met back when they were twelve years old; Gon had stood out to Killua amongst the boring everyday crowd of middle schoolers primarily because of his questionable wardrobe choices. Killua had figured Gon either didn’t give a shit about what anyone else thought of him or didn’t stop to think about it enough to care. Either way, that’d made him interesting at the time. 

Unfortunately, the world was lame and cruel and nobody else would think of it like that. 

So once again, Killua would swoop in and save Gon from an awful fate.

“You have to at least try, Gon.” Killua muttered, putting the comic book down and rolling over onto his back. “Everybody else is gonna be in tuxedos and stuff.” 

“Tuxedos?” Gon looked alarmed, then his shoulders slumped. “I don’t even think I own a tux.” 

“Well duh,” Killua said. ”They don’t usually make them in green."

“But I like green,” Gon sounded dejected at this point. 

“I know you do,” Killua replied. “But you want to impress this girl, don’t you?”

Gon frowned. “I guess…” 

“You can borrow something of mine.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” Killua said, nonchalantly. 

“Well in that case…” Gon muttered, thoughtfully, before walking over to the foot of his bed and plopping down next to Killua.

“You should dress me.”

Killua felt his heart skip a beat as he stared up at Gon. “W- What?” 

“You heard me,” Gon shrugged. “If you’re such a trendsetter, you’ll have no problem dressing me. Right? Keep me from embarrassing myself?”

“I…” Killua felt his cheeks grow warm. 

“It’s the least you can do since you aren’t gonna be there with me. I mean… Why don’t you just come with us?” Gon said, turning to stare down at Killua’s reddening face.

“Because dances are stupid,” Killua replied, at once. “And I have a lot of training to do and homework to catch up on. I can’t be wasting my time with something so pointless.”

“But it’s meant to be fun!” Gon argued. 

“Not my kinda fun.” Killua said, pulling himself up into a seated position. “Everyone at these things just pretends like they’re having a good time. Plus, how can you really feel independent with chaperones like Wing and Bisky breathing down all your necks?” 

“You’re so weird, Killua.”

“Thanks.”

“I just don’t get it. Everyone else has been talking about tonight ever since the semester started, but you don’t even want to go.”

“I’m not interested.”

Gon broke into a teasing, shit-eating grin. “Is it because you don’t have a date?”

“What-? No.”

“I’m pretty sure that Olivia girl from our English Lit class has a crush on you.”

“Not my problem.”

Gon blinked at Killua. “Why don’t you like going on dates?”

“They’re a waste of time.” _And I don’t have to explain myself to you._

“Are you even interested in girls?” Gon continued, his grin widening.

“Hey!” At this, Killua grabbed Gon by the shoulders, whirled him around and pinned him to the bed, pushing Gon’s chest down with the weight of his hand in order to perhaps intimidate him into submission. “That’s none of your business, okay?” 

Killua felt Gon’s chest shudder under his hand as he broke into a giggling fit. 

Killua narrowed his eyes. “What’s so funny?” 

There was a bemused glint in the other boy’s eyes. “I guess _that_ demonstration answers my question.”

“Ugh. Shut up, stupid!” Killua snapped, rolling off of him immediately. Warning sirens going off in his head. _When had Gon become so bold?_

“I mean, it’s not like anything I’m going to say is going to get you to listen to me anyway.” Gon said, draping his hands insouciantly behind his head as Killua let go of him. “I did offer to go with you, you know. The only reason I said yes to Yoko is because you declined my offer and I didn’t want to let her down when she’d been asking so nicely.”

“It doesn’t matter, idiot. We couldn’t go together to the dance anyway.” Killua muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from strangling Gon… Or worse, wrapping his arms around Gon and _doing something else._

“Why not?” Gon asked, pushing himself up on one elbow and meeting Killua’s gaze with those big, curious amber eyes of his. It was funny, even at the age of sixteen, there was a part of him that was still stuck in this eternally juvenile bubble. 

“Because… Because -” he was struggling against his own tongue now. 

_Damnit._

“Let’s just get you dressed and get this over with.” He said, peeling off of the bed and walking over to the other cupboard in Gon’s room. Killua stayed over at Gon’s place so often that Aunt Mito had suggested he keep some spare clothes here for whenever need arrived. Gon never touched them since he preferred to sport his far more flamboyant catalogue of outfits everywhere. 

Killua yanked the cupboard open and pressed his lips together in contemplation. 

_Let’s see what we have to work with…_

Merely thinking about Gon putting his clothes on was beginning to make Killua’s stomach brim with butterflies and his throat close up… 

Gon was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, but he turned his head to observe as Killua began to yank clothes off their hangers one by one and toss them carelessly around behind him. He could feel Gon’s gaze like a laser rising along his back. 

“Nope,” he mumbled. “Nope, absolutely not, double nope…” 

“So are you gonna stay home and clean up this mess while I’m out pretending to have a good time?” Gon asked, teasingly, as he propped his chin under his hands.

Killua tossed a shirt backwards at him with more force than was necessary but Gon caught it in between his fingers, as if on cue. 

“Ha,” he snapped triumphantly. 

Gon managed to dodge a couple more of Killua's assaults but missed on his fourth throw. Immediately, he was slapped in the face with an airborne sweater.

Gon peeled it off to examine it as Killua finally turned around to survey the leaning tower of clothes he’d made. He poked his tongue out of the corner of his lips and tilted his head at Gon. 

Gon looked good in everything, but he needed a certain special something... “I’ve got it.” He picked out a tuxedo his mother had once bought him for some stupidly fancy dinner party he’d been coerced into attending.

The tux was a deep midnight blue, the kind of blue that was almost black, with a matching pair of studded cufflinks. It wasn’t patterned or emblazoned, but Killua thought the minimalistic design made it look elegant. The tux also came with a crisp white undershirt and a sleek black tie.

He tossed the outfit at Gon, aiming for his head. “Try this on.”

“Wow Killua,” Gon muttered, catching it at his chest. The cufflinks rolled off and he had to lean over the edge of the bed to pick them up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in this before.”

“I’ll model it for you next time,” Killua replied, dryly. “Now go and put it on.”

“Okay!” Gon pulled his shirt off. Killua immediately looked away in order to keep from staring agape at the hard planes of his chest and stomach, the way his tan skin shone in the evening light, the chiseled length of his arms… 

“What?” 

 _Shit_.

“What.” Killua said, feigning innocence. 

“Am I really that ugly to look at?” Gon challenged, arching an eyebrow.

“Hideous,” Killua muttered, breezily.

“Ow,” Gon said. “Now you’re hurting my feelings.”

“Why don’t you spend less time being a smartass and go get ready, stupid? Isn’t the dance in like a couple of hours?” Killua insisted. It was annoying trying to sound convincing around the planet sized lump in his throat.

“Yeah, okay,” Gon sighed, his shoulders slumping as he hopped off of the bed and turned on his heel to head back towards the bathroom. “You’re no fun today.”

When he returned, Killua could physically feel his heart crawl into his mouth; only to evaporate. The tux fit Gon a little too well and in all of the right places. He had the first couple of buttons of the white shirt undone and the blazer draped lazily over one arm. 

Killua had to bite his tongue to keep from gaping at his best friend in awe. 

Suddenly, he felt his stomach tighten and warmth cascaded through his lungs as if he’d taken a languid gulp of steaming tea. There was Gon, Killua’s first friend, his best friend, the boy he always had, the boy he could never have, standing there in his clothes looking like something Killua wanted to collect into a pretty jar and store away behind museum glass. 

Was this how he was going to die? 

The dark tufts of his hair spilling over his forehead in a beautifully tousled disaster, the light sun-splashed freckles on his face becoming more noticeable against the bright white of his unbuttoned shirt collar, the way the suit actually complimented the shape of his body, the way he was parting his lips to speak and- “Huh?”

“It feels different,” Gon repeated.

“Good different or bad different?” Killua quizzed.

“I don’t know, but I think I like it. Your clothes kinda smell like you, did you know that? Maybe if I don’t use any cologne I can pretend like you’re with me at the dance.”

“What the hell, Gon!?” Killua snapped, his cheeks flaring. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

Gon looked slightly offended. “What did I say that was so wrong?” 

“God, Gon. Sometimes… Sometimes you’re just so thick.”

“Then if you’re so smart why don’t you just explain things to me?” Gon huffed.

Killua sighed. “You know what? Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. What happened to the tie?”

Gon pulled it out of his pants pocket. “I don’t really know how to tie a tie,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head and smiling nervously. The slimming combination of black and white was making the soft gold of his eyes scream. 

Killua took a tentative step forward, then two, before crossing the distance between them and gently taking the tie from Gon’s hands. For a mere moment, their fingers brushed. Gon’s fingers were warm against his cooler ones, but he tried to stifle the thought. He had to stand facing his friend to help him put the tie on, their faces barely apart from each other.

They were almost the same height so it was easy, although Killua was about half an inch taller, it infuriated Gon everytime he brought it up. Gon had never been the type of person to like the idea of being smaller. Not that it mattered, nothing about Gon was really small. He was an overwhelming presence, and what made it worse was the fact that he was so goddamn oblivious of the effect he had on people and things. 

The effect he had on Killua.

Killua tried to do up the tie without meeting Gon’s eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand as he gently brought the cloth over Gon’s head and around his neck.

Why did his best friend make him so weak? 

It wasn’t fair at all. 

“This is the simplest knot in the world,” Killua explained. “See this?” he demonstrated, holding up the backside of the tie. “You face this away from you so that the wide end is on the right and the small end on the left. Like this,” he turned it over. “And then, up into the neck loop from underneath.” When his fingers brushed Gon’s collarbone as he worked on the knot, he felt shivers rage up his spine and when he felt Gon’s warm breath against his face, he had to try and hold his own. 

_Out of all the people in the world…_

He could feel Gon’s gaze on him again. 

“Killua,”

“Mm?”

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what, Gon?” he asked, sounding exasperated despite not meaning to; as he fixed the loop he’d just made and tugged down against it to tighten the knot. 

“Get all evasive and grumpy when I try to compliment or acknowledge you? Is it because you’re not used to people being nice to you?”

“Why are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Maybe it’s just ‘cause you’re a shithead.” 

“Nup. Not buying that.” Gon said, as Killua finished up on the tie and did up one of Gon’s buttons (while attempting not to think about how soft his skin felt under his hands). Killua took a step back to survey his handiwork once he was finished.

Gon was still staring at him with that intensely puzzled look on his face. Killua wondered if his resolve would chip away under that gaze. “Can I borrow your necklace?” he asked, leaving Killua dumbfounded. “My -” he cut himself off abruptly, his hand flying to the base of his throat where it rested. He wrapped cold fingers around his feather necklace. “This stupid thing? Why?”

Gon shrugged. “It’s pretty and it reminds me of you.”

Killua didn’t know why his stomach felt all warm and gooey and gross after that. “Gon, you’re going to a lame school dance, not to Timbuktu. You can survive without me for a night.” 

“I - I know that,” Gon’s cheeks actually flared. “It’s just… We do everything together! You know… and it feels weirdly wrong, not having you there with me tonight. It feels like it’s supposed to be an important milestone that we’ll look back on when we’re all grey and old and I don’t know! Okay? You’re my best friend and I just want you to be there and I think it’s unfair that you’re being so stubborn about not going with me!”

“Gon…” the lump in his throat had returned and morphed into a brick. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.” 

“You don’t even seem to have a legitimate reason.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

Gon’s ears turned a bright red and a budding anger flared in his eyes, only to be suppressed almost immediately after, like a candle being blown out right after it had been lit. 

“Fine! Be that way. I’m just gonna go and have an awesome time without you!”

“Good!” Killua hadn’t meant for the frustration to bleed out through the cracks in his voice.

“Great!” Gon’s voice rose.

“Keep it down, boys!” came Aunt Mito’s warning shout from somewhere below them. 

Killua swore the woman had ears like a bat. With the door closed and the television on downstairs, there was no other explanation as to how she’d heard them, even if Gon did have a tendency to get loud when he got upset.  

Killua cursed under his breath just as Gon took a wide step back and dropped onto his bed in annoyance. For a moment, he thought he’d attempt to remedy the situation, but Killua couldn’t get himself to say anything over the cataclysmically frantic beating of his heart. 

He hated fighting with Gon. It was the worst thing in the world when they fought. Then again, he couldn’t make himself go to the damn thing, not even for Gon. He wasn’t totally sure why, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to stand a single second of being there. Watching Gon flirting around with some girl, being the third wheel, being _left behind._

“If you don’t wanna be around me, just say so.” Gon snapped, just as Killua had begun to tug the necklace up over his head to give to Gon as a peace offering. How could the idiot have jumped hoops to that conclusion? 

“That’s not it.” Killua said, without any heat.

Gon’s cheeks were still the color of an angry sunset, but there was a flicker of hurt in his eyes that damn well hammered the nail into Killua’s coffin.

“I just want to _understand_ , Killua,” he mumbled. “Something’s going on with you. You’re being weird. I thought we tell each other everything.” 

“Gon—“

“Are things at home getting worse again? Is it your mother again? Illumi? Or, or—“

“No!” 

“Fine. Don’t give me a straight answer,” Gon was back to seething. Any instance of tolerance that had previously graced his face disappearing back within its abyss. “I’m just going to leave. You can show yourself out right?”

Killua felt himself pale. “Isn’t it still early?”

“I’ll take the scenic route.” 

“I—“ Killua sighed. “If that’s what you want.”

Gon’s expression shifted, ever-so-subtly, as if he’d been half-expecting Killua to protest more, but all Killua did was roll back his shoulders, stuff his comic book into his bag and sling it around his shoulders. “I’ll get out of your hair then. I hope you have a good time tonight.”

“Oh I will!” Gon snapped, balling his fists to either side.

Killua didn't turn back to look at his friend as he strode over to the door, miserably attempting to keep his eyes from doing that annoying stinging thing. 

“Hey, Killua?” Gon called, from behind him. 

“Yeah,” his tone was dry as sandpaper.

“I hope someday you recognize how important you are to me.”

Killua’s heart stopped as he stood frozen in front of the doorway. Suddenly, it felt as though something terrible might have happened to him. Gon’s words sunk into the bottom of the ocean, into the bottom of his soul. Suddenly he felt as though he’d been struck by lightning, or been run over by a car, or hurtled off the edge of a cliff.

He could hear his blood ringing in his ears.

 _Are you finally ready to admit it to yourself? Falling in love with your best friend huh..._ Taunted a slimy voice in his head. _What a sad cliche._

Killua turned on his heel and despite everything inside him screaming otherwise, he looked up to meet Gon’s eyes. 

“I think _you’re_ the one who doesn’t realize how important _you_ are to _me!”_ Killua’s voice came out shrill, quavering.

Gon stared at him blankly for a moment, before breaking into the most defiant grin that Killua had ever seen him sport. “You say that, but you don’t show it. I, on the other hand, I’m going to keep my word. I’m gonna prove how important you are to me right now.”

Killua was so discombobulated he couldn’t even get himself to stutter out a reply.

Then, to Killua’s utter disbelief, Gon loosened the tie Killua had just spent an entire minute on helping him put on and ran a careless hand through his still-messy hair. His eyes were glimmering with something terribly determined and yet wonderfully goading. Then he crossed the distance in between them and tugged at Killua’s arm, pulling him back towards the inside of his room, away from the door.

“What are you doing?” he choked out.

“I’m not going,” Gon said. “I’m just gonna text Yoko and let her know I can’t make it. I have food poisoning, I’ve been throwing up all evening, haven’t I?”

“What? You can’t just—“

“My choice,” Gon muttered. “I want to stay here with you.”

_You stubborn, impossible idiot._

“Gon, you haven’t been able to shut up about wanting to go since the semester started!”

“Yeah, but it’s not gonna mean anything without you. So I won’t force you to come along anymore. I’m just going to spend tonight here with you until you get annoyed with me.”

“Congratulations, I’m annoyed.” Killua’s stomach was turning to dust.

Gon was still smiling fiendishly. “I win.” 

Killua’s eyes were rapt on his best friend now. He felt something within him unwind as something unquenchable washed over him and he took an unsteady step forward, so that there was barely any distance in between them now. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he heard Gon’s breath waver. 

“I wouldn't declare myself champion just yet if I were you. I won’t accept defeat that easily.” 

“Oh yeah?” Gon smirked. “Prove it.”

Killua wondered if it were possible to die from the contagion of anxiety sweeping through his lungs now, or the look on Gon's face. Challenging, haughty, eyes wide as islands. Within the sweet delirium of that daring moment, it didn’t hurt as much. Not when Gon was standing there, in Killua’s clothes, sacrificing his night for him, looking at him with that devastating tenderness in his eyes. For a moment, it felt okay to admit that Gon was his. Wholly, unabashedly, hungrily— _his_.

So what if he just did it then? Went right ahead and proved it?

In the spur of a single unsure moment, he could ruin everything they had cultivated. Maybe Gon would be horrified and would never look at him the same again, but at this point, he had to know. He couldn’t stand it anymore, could barely breathe in it, live with it. This painful thing beyond love that bloomed a dozen thorny roses behind his ribcage. He would most likely wreck everything they had if he went through with it, so he drank in Gon’s beautifully unfettered expression, his eyes like morsels of sun, his freckles scattered like flecks of snow over warm, tawny skin. 

Killua felt his eyelids flutter closed, felt his body work as if possessed, and he finally did what he’d been wanting to do for months, no— _years_ now. He dropped his shoulder bag to the ground by his feet, his pulse thundered a maelstrom, he shoved his hands deep into his pants’ pockets to keep them from shaking and he took a step forward. The next thing he knew he was pressing his lips against Gon’s.

The other boy’s lips felt soft as clay, malleable and warmer than he’d ever imagined; and he’d imagined kissing Gon _a lot_. Killua’s lips moved slow; gentle as if Gon was too close to shatter. He didn’t want to make Gon collapse under his desire, all he wanted was for Gon to taste the war that coursed within him, taste a life starved of light. The kiss felt afraid of itself, clumsy and awkward. He pulled away almost the second he realized how stagnant Gon’s lips had felt beneath his own. 

Gon hadn’t kissed him back.

Gon hadn’t even been breathing.

Killua rocked back on the balls of his feet so quickly he had to grab the side of the wall to keep from stumbling over, his heart was racing and his throat constricted painfully, as if he’d accidentally inhaled acid. He then stared down at his own feet, his face burning. “Sorry,” he remedied immediately, words short and bloody paper cuts. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I don’t. I just… _I’m sorry._ ” 

Gon’s expression was unreadable.

Killua felt like he was going to be sick, nausea swimming like a shark round his gut, sinking a fang into his windpipe. “Say something. Please?” he croaked. 

Silence. 

And then, after a bout of quiet that felt like a millennia, Gon walked over to Killua. There was nothing but a cloudless understanding in his voice as he uttered his next words. “It makes sense to me now,” he said, thoughtfully. Killua wondered if there was any possible way he could just make himself evaporate on command, or better yet, spontaneously combust. He could still taste the sunniness of Gon’s lips, feel the celestial weight of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” Killua didn’t care if he sounded like a broken record, he had to get the sentiment across. “Can we just forget about it? We can pretend like it never even happened. Okay?” 

For a moment, Gon merely blinked at him, before cupping one of Killua’s hands in his own. He then pressed their intermingled hands to the side of his cheek. Heat flooded Killua’s bones at the sudden touch and he felt his breath shudder. 

“It’s okay, Killua,” the words came out as hummed whispers. “It’s okay.”

Before Killua could form a cohesive sentence or even digest the implication behind that reassurance, Gon barreled into him, crushing his lips to Killua’s so hard he literally stole the breath from his lungs. This time, Gon kissed him back fiercely. This time, Killua felt the premonition of the kiss everywhere, felt his stomach clench and his heart soar. When Gon’s tongue slipped into his mouth and he smiled against his face, Killua felt his mind upend and he lost track of all conscious thought. The only thing that mattered was Gon, Gon, Gon. Their bodies pressed up against one another, closer than they had ever been, their hands still entwined, Gon’s other hand slipping into and tugging devotedly at the curly expanse of Killua’s silver hair. Time liquified, their surroundings drowned themselves out.

All Killua could feel was the beating of their hearts, the brush of skin against skin, this fever dream in ecstatic motion. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped for. 

It was everything hope could be.

They kissed until their mouths were sore, and when Gon finally reluctantly pulled away and pressed his forehead to Killua’s, he was looking at him with newfound resolution. Gon then grabbed Killua’s other hand and led him to the centre of his room. Killua didn’t really question what he was doing; his head still a blurry glimmer of static as he reeled from all the kissing.

He didn’t question it until Gon was wrapping an arm around his waist anyway. Not until Gon guided Killua’s left hand to rest around his neck. 

Killua shivered, mortified. “What are you doing?”

“You won’t come to the dance. So I thought I’d bring the dance to you.” Gon replied, as if it were that simple.

“I’m not a dancer.”

“Don't care.”

“This is stupid.”

“Too bad.”

“There’s not even any music!”

“We’ll just have to make due.” 

Killua was running out of protests and Gon was looking at him like he’d swallowed the sun and all Killua could do to keep from crumbling to a heap on the floor was hold onto Gon for dear life, so he complied. Gon’s grip on Killua tightened in mirroring response and they began to sway steadily. The room had grown dark, shadows were cascading along the walls, stray light fluttered in from the street; bathed Gon’s face in honey. It smelt faintly like cinnamon and they were dancing even though there was no music. Maybe Gon was imagining music, but Killua thought the way Gon’s hands felt around his middle was music in itself. Gon dropped his head in Killua’s neck, and Killua breathed against Gon’s skin. It was a breath of relief, a breath of reverence.

He was afraid he was dreaming. He was even more afraid he was awake. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Gon whispered, softly.

“Why didn’t you?” Killua retorted. 

"I've always been into you."

"You never mentioned you were into me... Like _this_."

"I wasn't sure to be honest," Gon admitted, scratching the back of his neck, but then he was beaming again. "I think I realized it when the thought of you not being there on a night this special made me really upset. Then I started to think about how cool it would be if I could take you as my date instead and..." 

"The rest is history?"

Gon nodded. Killua sighed and ran an idle hand through Gon's hair. It was thicker and longer now than it used to be when they were kids, Gon wore them down more often these days, making his bangs curl over his ears in short, dark tufts. 

"I didn't want to screw up your date."

"Just say you didn't want me to go out on a date in the first place," Gon teased.

"Okay," Killua sighed. "That too."

“I thought I wouldn’t need to, but then I figured you didn’t feel the same way when you were so insistent that I go out with Yoko.”

“I just… I guess I thought you wanted to go out with her.”

At this, Gon threw his head back like a kid, and laughed. His laughter sounded like high winds along the shore and it made Killua’s toes curl. “You may be smart Killua, but you need to stop making all these educated guesses,” he explained. “Yoko’s a really nice girl, she’s pretty and letting her down tonight will make me feel really guilty,” he continued. “But,” he added, quickly. “You’re the only one, Killua. You’ve always been the only one.”

You’ve. Always. Been. The. Only. One.

Killua didn’t know how he’d mustered the energy to match Gon’s graceful movements for this long. Now he fumbled, felt a wetness against his face. The tears had been involuntary. Down his cheeks before he could catch them like fallen stars and wish them away. He sniffled despite himself and squeezed his eyes shut. Breathing in Gon’s smell, wildflowers and grapefruit soap.

He'd wanted this... For so long... That he'd convinced himself of the sheer impossibility of it. It was like when people said they were going to go backpacking across Europe one day, or how starry-eyed children promised they were gonna grow up to be astronauts. It was like discovering that there was a substitute to oxygen. 

How could he ever put it into words that made sense?

The expression on Gon’s face was troubled as he carefully lifted Killua’s chin. Killua stared helplessly at Gon through a kaleidoscope of tears. Gon’s fingers were already wiping them away, but they just kept coming. “Killua,” his voice was a healing thing. “Please don’t cry.”

“Gon, I…”

“Hey,” Gon wiped another stray tear from his cheek with the back of his thumb before enveloping him in a dreamily slow, engulfing kiss. This one Killua felt in his teeth. Their mouths moved in sync like sycamores in midsummer, bowing to the season’s temperaments, maneuvering on their own accord, as if it was the law of nature.

When Gon pulled away, he smiled, even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” he replied. “I do too.”

The dried tears felt sticky against his face, but they stayed there for a few more wordless minutes, holding each other, rediscovering each other.  

Killua broke into a moon-bright smile lit with newfangled hope. “Who’s the winner now?” 

Gon pretended to think about this. “Let’s see. I technically took you to the dance, I made you admit the problem, I got you to _kiss_ me… Yep. All in all, the score’s in my favor. I think we have a clear winner.” Killua punched Gon in the shoulder in mock astonishment before wrapping his arms around him again.

“You know,” Killua started. “Maybe this was all _my_ ploy to get you to see that there’s this whole color spectrum outside of green.” 

“How can you not like green though?” Gon demanded. 

“Maybe I’ll learn to fall in love with it.” Killua admitted, in a small voice. _Maybe I already have._

Gon broke into a knowing smile and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> \- this is stupid and cheesy but what can i say i'm a sucker for these boys?  
> \- i'm on [tumblr](http://winterblues.tumblr.com)  
> \- thanks for reading and please leave me a comment if you liked it! <3


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